The Facts in the Case of RC-1898
by miss tori
Summary: Even living weapons can lose their innocence, and even men with no pasts can be haunted, as the recently unsealed files of Jango Fett can attest. A new Trainer arrives on Kamino and learns that the top secret cloning project is only the beginning of the secrets hidden here


The Facts in the Case of RC 1898

_Lost in my labyrinth_

_I see no truth._

_O innocence, you have corrupted me,_

_which way shall I turn?_

_I know nothing of evil,_

_yet I feel it, I fear it,_

_worse - imagine it._

-Benjamin Britten, The Turn of the Screw

_To: Orun Wa_

_From: Fett, Jango_

_Re: Incident on the east platform_

_Date: Fourth year of GAR project, Month Seven, Day Three, 0400 _

Complying with your request to review the events leading up to the incident on the landing platform a few days ago, especially in regards to defects in the clone involved. I have not only obtained a recording of the incident (See attached C) and eyewitness reports (See attached document D) but the sergeant involved also left behind a personal log, which comprises the bulk of this report (See attached A and B). I am certain that upon review, you will come to the same conclusion as I have regarding the clones involved. Having reviewed the evidence, I, now, more than ever, stand behind my opinion that termination of the remaining clones is unnecessary. The fault lies squarely with the sergeants involved, who were recommended to me by outside sources. In the future, should the need arise, I will personally run background checks on any personnel that we may need. This will not happen again under my watch.

In the meantime I recommend that full psychiatric evaluations of the training sergeants be performed periodically, in the future, as well as confidential incident reporting made available to trainees. Whether or not these boys are to be considered weapons, we still have an obligation to them and in at least this one case, we have failed them.

_Attached A. Personal Log of Sergeant [REDACTED] _

_Year Four of GAR Project, Month Six, Day One, 1900_

I have never kept a personal log before. Given the nature of my new assignment, however, I believe a record of my experiences would be beyond valuable.

Today I arrived on Kamino. There can be no other word for my new home but dreary. The entire planet is covered in seas and constantly at storm. I would certainly never consider such a place as my home and indeed I had not intended it to be so until I met the mysterious employer who had contacted me a few days ago with an equally mysterious job offer. Upon arrival I was escorted to a chamber by a Kaminoan, one of the graceful, if aloof, native species.

Though polite, she was unable to answer many of my questions regarding the offer I had received. She was able to tell me that the person who had made the offer would be by shortly to discuss it with me, which put me somewhat at ease. I could sense a slight nervousness from her as she mentioned my future employer. I have always been adept at reading the emotional states of others, something that has come in handy in my information brokering work. No sooner had I settled into the bizarre chair provided for me than the door opened.

A man stepped inside. A tall man, wearing sword bright Mandalorian armor. His face was hidden behind the helmet's merciless t-visor. It was him, Jango Fett, the Mandalore, the best bounty hunter in the galaxy, vanished years ago into a sea of rumor and speculation. He had been here, was here, in the flesh, talking with me. I could barely manage a greeting I was so overwhelmed The questions I wished to ask him fought with each other to escape my mouth and fortunately for me he spoke first.

True to what I knew of him, he wasted no words on welcome. "I have asked you here because of your information brokering experience. We are in need of someone to teach slicing and information gathering to young trainees. Your reputation suggests you would be able to do such things."

I thanked him and he shook his head. "Don't thank me. I wanted to have them learn in a less formal way. I believe that practical slicing is best taught through experience. But the kaminoans insisted on bringing in a pro to teach them."

He paused and looked me up and down. My face looked small and frightened in his helmet. "I've not worked with you personally, and you are young. Neither of these things are to my liking, but your work seems solid, you have combat experience and circumstances being what they are I believe you'll do."

Secretly I was still thrilled, despite his evident lack of faith in me. Though I am good at my job, and my reputation will back this, there are other rumors about me that have kept me from getting jobs in the past. I freely admit to one of them. I have a tendency towards fixtation that by passes tenacity and can lean towards obsession. I believe that this was the trait that years ago, kept me from being accepted into the Jedi Temple. I do not regret this. I consider such a thing to be an asset, except on the rare occasions where it gets out of hand. It allows me to perceive things that others might overlook by not looking closely enough. Moreover it is a part of me. I knew that Jango must be aware of such a trait and I had no doubt he either considered it an asset as well, or chose to ignore it. At very least he was not worried enough to mention it.

Though proud to have met his criteria, I had questions of my own. "Before I accept, I must know. Who exactly are these trainees will I be teaching?"

Jango looked at me for a long moment. Then, slowly, deliberately, he removed his helmet. I was utterly taken aback by his appearance. Though I would be lying if I said I had never pictured what lay beneath his helmet, I had not pictured the handsome man he was. A human, tanned skin with only a few scars that served to make him more striking, dark, close cut hair, well formed features, naturally white teeth. Most notable of all was the piercing darkness of his eyes. A hint of danger shone in them, like a diamond at the bottom of a mine. Those eyes held me, frozen in place. I knew I could have refused him nothing. "Follow me." he said

As we walked he spoke and I kept my gaze on the white walls. "The project you will be involved with is top secret. If you sign on, you will give up your life. You will live here for a long, long time, possibly forever. You will leave everything outside this planet behind. No one will know where you have gone. For all intents and purposes, you will be dead. In exchange you will be paid beyond handsomely, you will have everything you need or want."

He stopped at a closed door, marked "Top Secret". Looked at me with those dark eyes. "I need an answer."

I nodded, really even if money offered wasn't so generous, I would have accepted because Jango had asked. "I accept" Jango nodded once and opened the stepped inside and I followed. We stood in a glass walking tunnel over a large room full of people. It looked to be a cafeteria. All the people were dressed alike, in red tunics and pants. On closer inspection that was not the only way they were alike. All of them were male, roughly age eight, dark hair, tanned skin. I couldn't hold back my gasp, they all had the same face. One of them stopped eating and looked up at me. I saw his dark in those eyes both intrigued and frightened me, something dangerous.

"Clones" Jango said and I looked up at him, into his eyes. "An army of them. I am the template."

He needn't of told me. I knew when I saw his eyes, the same as that boy's, those dark, killer's eyes. "You will be in charge of training them, making them the best army the galaxy has ever seen. You won't be alone. There are other sergeants, most of them Mandalorian, and the day to day maintenance of the troops will be done by technicians. but you will be responsible for your own trainees. Can you handle this?"

The boy was still watching me. His gaze was the same as Jango's, merciless, unblinking, compelling.

"Yes." I said

_Year Four Month Six Day Two 1800_

My day here began early. I am glad I am a natural early riser because otherwise I would be miserable. There is no sunrise but reveille was at 0500 and sergeants are expected to be up earlier. I reached the trainer''s mess at 0330 and most of my peers were already present. As Jango had stated, they were mostly Mandalorians. I had never seen so many of them in the same place at once. It was quite an intimidating room was a veritable rainbow of armor colors and filled with the sound of their equally...colorful language. Few of them paid me any attention. The ones that did were polite, if laconic, and one or two were even friendly. I did sense a certain tension concerning myself from a few others who didn't speak to me. I wondered if it were my age, or the fact that I wasn't a mandalorian that caused such concern.

At least one of them didn't seem to mind either fact, a Sergeant Groze. She's a Torgutan woman in her middle years. Though she appears very formidable and I've no doubt is an excellent combatant, she posses a warm, friendly personality and took me under her wing right away. If my knowledge about Mandalorians is correct this makes her a precious rarity and one I am glad to have discovered. She offered to give me a tour of the sergeant's facilities during my personal hours and I accepted. Unfortunately I had to go meet my trainees before we could have much of a conversation.

I say unfortunately but nothing could be less true. Though they are young, biologically eight years old, they are the finest soldiers I have ever seen. Each and every one of them is athletic, intelligent, loyal, creative, and disciplined. I feel jealous of those who will eventually command them and frightened for those they will be unleashed upon.

One trainee in particular stands out. His designation is 1898, but he goes by the name Klicks. He is exceptionally bright, and mature. I would go so far as to say wise beyond his years, even accounting for the accelerated aging I'm told they possess. While as obedient as the others I sense a melancholy in him that drew my other trainees seem to sense it too and give him a wide berth. I Shall have to ask Sgt. Groze about him when I meet her tonight.

_Year Four, Month Six, Day Two 2000/i_

I have discussed RC 1898 with Sgt Groze.I fear my curiosity is far from satisfied. If anything it has increased. Sergeant Groze knew the boy but was deeply reluctant to speak on him. In fact her entire manner changed at the mere mention of his name. She went from warm and chatty to utterly frosty and tried to change the subject.

I refused to be deterred and told her that if I was to teach him I needed to know more about him, and that I would prefer to consult her before I looked at his files. The mention of his files loosened her tongue enough for her to talk. Mostly trivial information, his name, his scores in marksmanship, and things of that ilk. He had been transferred from another squad**.** Which is rather unusual, I've been told. Nothing she told me seemed to explain why the other clones would avoid him, though.

When I could see that this was all the information I would get from her I changed the subject again, by mentioning how my age seemed to be an impediment. She was glad for the distraction and immediately joined in conversation, mentioning how Sergent M'hari was much younger than me. 'And that other _dala _wasn't much older than her. I swear he liked em young." A cloud seemed to pass over her features and she shut her mouth quickly.

I knew this was another secret worth knowing. "Who liked them young? Jango?"

Sgt Groze laughed hysterically at that, letting me know how wrong my conclusion was "No, I've never known Jango to 'Like' anyone in that way. Not that I asked, mind you. He's well out of my age range. More yours." I think the heat of the room might have made it seem as if I were blushing because she laughed and proceeded to question me playfully on my romantic life. I played along, to let the matter drop and to keep her from being too suspicious of me. It wouldn't do for her to become close-lipped, especially after she had proven herself to be such a valuable source of information.

_Year Four, Month Six, Day Ten 1700_

I have been lax in my log keeping due to the intense period of adjustment. Though my schedule has been hectic I am happy to say my trainees are a port in the storm, especially Klicks. Though I know I should not show favorites I doubt that what I record here will ever come to light where he can see it. He is far and away my star pupil. Not only is he brilliant and mature, but he is truly charming as well. He possesses a ready wit and a silver tongue that will see that he rarely spends a night alone without his choosing. His air of melancholy remains but it adds to an almost brooding intrigue about him. It makes me wish to know him better, to find what troubles him so and to soothe his worried mind.

Oddly, his fellows still insist at holding him at arms length. I questioned one of them today, a trainee who went by the name of Malo. He could not give me a concrete answer as to why they avoided him. "He's a good soldier" was all he could manage.

I could tell he was uncomfortable discussing this with his CO but I pressed on. "Why do you avoid him then? Has he done anything to you?"

He looked shocked at that but shook his head. "No, not to me, or anyone I know of. It's just..." He sighed "There were rumors of him being taken away for trouble in his old squad. No one would say what. When he came here, things started going bad. I liked Sergeant Jessel, we all did, but when Klicks came, he did too, and she changed because of him. Then" he looked down "We lost her."

The way he said 'lost' could only mean 'dead' I touched his shoulder and he flinched. "How did she die?" I asked as softly as I could

He shook his head "I don't know. I just know they told us she was dead, and that you would be replacing her." He looked up at me. His eyes were big and dark, but not like Jango's or Klicks' for that matter. I could feel fear coming off him in waves.

"Dismissed" I said and he started to go.

Just before he left he looked at me again. "Be careful of him," he said, and I knew he met Klicks.

Despite his warning I am more determined than ever to find out about this intriguing boy. I believe that I may uncover more information by looking into the demise of the unfortunate Sergeant Jessel, my predecessor.

_Year Four, Month Six Day Twelve, 0400_

My further efforts on direct questioning have proved fruitless, even for an information gatherer of my skill. The other sergeants to a man refuse to answer questions on Klicks _or_ Jessel. I have never known such a point of unity among them before. Even Skirata and Vau who probably could not agree to both breath oxygen will not say a word about them.

I decided to go right to the source and access the boy's file. I would begin with the parts I was allowed to see, and then slice further if I found nothing. His file was easily accessed, and there was nothing that looked to have been altered or be suspicious. He had done well in all his training and only received one disciplinary mark, from a sergeant named Quint, who I have yet to meet. I made a note to find and interview him later and then returned to my digging. Jessel's file seemed in order as well, though her mercenary background kept it slim. Nothing was mentioned of her death other than a red 'Deceased' under the Current Information header.

I sensed that Sgt Quint might hold information for me. Something told me that he was important to my quest and I began to search for his file. To my surprise, I could find nothing in any of the records about a Sgt Quint. Other than the mention of him in Klick's record he did not seem to exist. I had never been so intrigued before. Settling in for a long night, I began to slice into the records. It was the most difficult work I had ever done. Avoiding alarms and traps, cutting through security, it was a true test of my skills. Hours later all I had found was a blurry holo of a Mandalorian man.

It was very late and I knew I needed to go to bed. In my exhaustion I took a turn down a hall I had never been down before. It branched into a T at the end and I could see an unfamiliar man standing there. He wore a set of gunmetal grey Mandalorian armor, and possessed an air of casual danger, similar to that I had felt from Jango. I confess I shuddered seeing him.

He turned to the left and walked away. For some reason I felt a rush of anger, as if he had deliberately snubbed me and I ran after him, opening the door to the room he must have vanished into. I came to an instant halt once inside. The room was a clone barracks. They had all been asleep but roused instantly and came to attention. I could see that the man was not among them. No one of his height in his armor could have hidden amongst them or indeed anywhere in the room.

My anxiety must have been clear to the clones because the squad leader, a boy I did not recognize asked me if he could help.I asked him if anyone else had come in before me, but he denied it vehemently. I have never known a clone to be deceitful before so I reluctantly left. Perhaps he had gone the other way, but I was sure I had seen him turn left. Regardless I have resolved to question Groze about Quint as well as to continue on my hunt for his file.

_Year Four, Month Six, Day Thirteen, 1700_

An unexpected turn of the screw today. Groze came to me. Unfortunately she was rather angry. She told me that one of her 'boys' had told her that I had barged in on them, searched the barracks for someone, and accused him of lying when he said no one was there. I did not deny it. I told her of the Mandalorian man I had seen.

Her anger seemed to grow and I braced myself in case she tried to strike me. Instead she lowered her voice "Since you are one of those fools who cannot leave well enough alone I will tell you what I can. Hopefully after that, you will be done this nonsense and leave my boys along. Your boys have already had enough trouble, especially the one you seem so obsessed with!"

I thought of protesting but my instincts told me to keep my mouth shut. "Klicks has been through much more than most of the boys here. His first sergeant was Quint, and Klicks was his pet. They were very close. It seemed they never spent a moment apart. Klicks' performance grades were amazing and we all assumed he was benefitting from Quint's teaching. Quint was a very intense person, even by mando standards, handsome, young, and charming. He could change on a blink though. Once he put that Twi'lek from ordinance through a table, over him yelling at his pet for something or another. "

"He was protective of that boy. It got to be a problem because Klicks started to act out. Boyish things at first, stealing food, getting a tone, but it got worse. He started fights with the other boys in his squad. I heard him yelling at one of them once, screaming hysterically an inch from the boy's face. It was bordering on abuse. "

"Shortly after that, he was transferred from Quint's squad to Jessel's. He did well at first, was back to his old self. Then Quint began to see Jessel. That surprised us because he had never shown interest in young ladies flirted but never seemed to do more than that. But Jessel was a pretty young thing, a mando too, and we hoped she'd be a good influence on him. He seemed to change _her_ though. We never saw her without him, and Klicks went back to his troublemaking. One day Jango asked Quint to meet him on the eastern landing dock. We never saw Quint again, and we never asked about him. The damage to Jessel was done. She withdrew from everything and the last time we saw her she was heading towards the east platform. "

"Jango simply said they were both to be considered _Dar'manda._ and we left it at that. I'm not even supposed to tell you this. But I'm worried _your _digging and _your_ questioning is going to hurt that boy. Whatever he's been through he doesn't need you stirring it up! Manda knows these boys will have hard enough lives without your butting in! So do your kriffing job and leave him be!"

She stopped and glared at me, waiting for my response. After absorbing what I had heard I spoke to her, trying my hardest to keep my voice steady. With the emotion I was experiencing it was difficult, but I managed it. "Sergeant Groze. I deeply and truly appreciate the risk you have taken telling me this. I consider you a true friend and am touched that you care for Klicks enough to take this risk. Now that I know what he has been through, I give you my oath that I will do nothing but seek to protect him. I consider such a task an honor on par with serving the mandalore himself." I met this with all my heart. At the moment caring for that boy became my mission in life.

Groze seemed to sense my sincerity and accepted me with an embrace. We were soon discussing gossip again as if nothing had happened, when one of the trainees came running into the room. "Ma'am" he said to Sgt Groze "You must come immediately! Britten was in a fight with another trooper! He was hurt really badly! They've got him in the hospital wing" He turned to see me standing there and his eyes widened "You should come too."

Instantly I knew which clone had attacked the injured I prayed all the way there that I was wrong, it was as I had feared. Klicks had attacked the boy. The witnesses said that he had jumped him, unprovoked after hearing him tell the story of how I had surprised them in their barracks. When questioned why he had attacked, all Klicks would say is "He's lying." Because of this, and because Britten was injured badly enough to need a bacta tank, I had no choice but to put Klicks in solitary confinement. I feel appalled that so soon after my vow I am forced to discipline him. Already I feel as if I have failed my young charge and indeed, Jango himself.

_Year Four, Month Six, Day Fourteen, 1700_

Training continues to go well. All my trainees have been wonderful, but I miss Klicks.I cannot shake my feeling of failure towards him and more than once I have considered going to Jango to beg his forgiveness for my inadequacy. If I had seen Jango at all or knew of his whereabouts, I might have done so already. Fortunately he has not appeared, so I still have time to repair my reputation. My relationship with the other trainers, save Groze, remains is highly regrettable, and I fear they may be discussing me with Jango. I know that they are talking about me behind my back, as I have been shunned by mandalorians that I have not even met.

I discovered this when I went to check on Klicks. Though he is not allowed formal visits I do check on him from time to time. Today I found that I am not the only one he has charmed into doing so. As I arrived I saw someone else was outside his cell. A woman with long dark hair, who wore red mandalorian armor. She could only be another training sergeant. Though she seemed familiar, I did not know her name. She must have known who I was, for as soon as I stepped toward her she turned and left in a great hurry, ignoring my call. By the time I reached the other door to the hall, she was gone. Klicks was asleep and had been the entire time, so he could not have told me who she was, even if I could speak to him.

It is strange, but even recalling her now, I feel an anger far greater than her rudeness should have provoked. I feel as if even her visiting Klicks is an offense to me, as if she is trying to take something that should be mine alone. I hope that Klicks is released soon. Perhaps by spending more time with him, I will be less jealous of the time I get now.

_Year Four, Month Six, Day Fifteen, 1700_

The boy Klicks injured, Britten, is out of bacta and has made a full recovery. In light of this and Klicks' exemplary behavior, as well as my own recommendations, Klicks will be allowed visitors. If all goes well he will be released shortly after that! I should be overjoyed but instead I find myself despondent.

Today when I went to see Klicks, he appeared to be talking with someone, though perhaps arguing is a better word. I could hear him yelling all the way down the hall, "I won't! I won't do it anymore! I followed orders! You can't do that I followed orders!"

When I approached the cell, I could see he was the only person inside. Infrared and UV scanners confirmed it. He was engaged in a fierce verbal battle with someone who wasn't there.

As soon as He saw me, however, he stopped arguing and behaved perfectly normally. I assumed that it was a momentary lapse, brought along by the stress of solitary and chose not to report it to anyone.

My boy has already been through so much I will not jeopardize him further. Though no one has said so directly, I know that the fates of these boys is always in the hands of their sergeants. Things like fighting amongst the troops is generally handled through punishment, but serious issues like mental or physical aberration falls into the jurisdiction of the Kaminoans, and they are quick to terminate defective product. I will not let such a thing happen to my boy.

_Year Four, Month Six, Day Seventeen, 1700_

I have seen the silent mandalorian woman visiting Klicks again. This time her appearance made me more angry than before. I felt instinctively that she had ill intentions towards him. I ran towards her, yelling for her to identify herself. My fury grew as I ran and I fully intended to attack her when I reached her. When I was only a few meters away, she turned and looked at me. Her expression stopped me cold. I had never seen such a look of misery on a person's face before. She looked as if she would never know happiness again. Before I could move she turned and walked away. By the time I recovered, she was gone again

Once more Klicks had slept through our encounter. From the looks of it, however, he appeared to be sleeping badly, perhaps even having a nightmare. I could hear him murmuring in his sleep. "No, I followed orders! No, please don't!"

I felt angry once again at this woman. What right, despite her sorrow did she have to be here? what effect was she having on my boy? I cannot help but feel she is responsible for his distress and that I must guard him jealously against her.

_Year Four, Month Six, Day Twenty, 1700_

Now that I know who this woman is my anger has been replaced by horror. I know that my beliefs go against all logic, against all I know of life and death, but I still in my heart know them to be true. I believe that the woman I have seen, who appears and disappears so mysteriously, who looks so tragic and causes such pain to my boy, is none other than the spirit of Sergeant Jessel.

I came to this conclusion today when I visited my troops barracks. I was gathering items for Klicks and I noticed a holo device, secreted under his mattress. I knew he was not supposed to have such a thing, but I was curious what might be on it. I activated it and the image that appeared was of the mandalorian woman I had seen. The image of her showed none of the sorrow that she had shown when I had seen her, but I knew it was her none the less.

I showed the holo to Malo and he identified her as their deceased trainer, Sgt. Jessel. I asked him if anyone had seen her since her disappearance or known of any sign that she might still be alive and he assured me that he had not. He seemed quite upset by the suggestion as well.

I believe he is telling me the truth as he has no reason to lie. Now I am in anguish. I know that my fellow sergeants would not believe me if I told them this, even if we were on better terms. I have learned long ago not to speak of the strange things I see to other people. Even the jedi who came to interview me in my childhood expressed doubt when I told them of my visions. I know that whatever she wants, what ever she is, the task of facing her falls to me alone.

_Year Four, Month Six, Day Twenty Five, 1700_

Klicks has been released from solitary! I should be overjoyed but instead I am haunted, literally as well as figuratively. I have seen Jessel again, repeatedly. Ever since I have discovered her identity she has grown bolder, appearing to me in crowds, watching me as I teach, following me everywhere, unnoticed by all but myself.

But far worse than the spirit of this poor sad woman has begun to haunt me. I fear that a true evil has made itself known at last. I believe that the Ghost of Sergeant Quint, the architect of so many sorrows, walks these halls as well, looking to bring more pain upon this world. I have suspected so for a while and today, when I came to retrieve Klicks I had my proof.

I could hear him again, arguing with an unseen visitor, the same way as before, pleading that he had followed orders, begging his invisible tormenter to leave him alone. I expected to see Jessel there, with her unblinking, sorrowful stare, but on turning the corner I saw no one. Even looking into the glass all I could see was Klicks, yelling forcefully at the empty air.

I raised my fist to tap on the glass and alert him to my presence, before anyone else could see his emotional state. Just before I did so a figure flashed into view behind the glass, like a bolt of lightning illuminating a dark sky. It was a man in dark mandalorian armor, save the helmet. He stared right at me, with eyes that seemed to burn with cruelty, and a mocking, wicked smile.

His hair was cut close to the skull and his features, though handsome, were sharp and not at all welcoming. He gave of a distinct impression of evil amusement, as if the pain of others were a joke to him. I took a step back, raising my hands to protect myself out of instinct. I saw him laugh, and step back as well, raising his hands in the same gesture and turning to Klicks. I cried out and felt a strange, cold rush of energy, as if something large and swift had moved past me.

My vision blurred and I heard another cry. The man was gone and Klicks lay against the far wall of his cell, looking dazed. I offered to send for a medic but Klicks swore that he was fine, that nothing had happened. He showed no sign of injury or distress so I let it drop. I know though, that the Ghost of Quint was in there with my boy, and had wished, does wish, him great harm.

_Year Four, Month Six, Day Twenty Nine, 1700_

The battle for my boy's soul will begin soon. The ghosts are gathering their strength and soon they will attack. When they do I will face them alone, for I can count on no one to help me, not after today. It had been so long since I had seen them that I let my guard down, and I am paying now for my lack of judgement.

I was in the middle of an inter-squad training exercise with Skirata when I overheard one of the trainees mention Klicks. Being alert for all news of my boy's progress I listened from a distance.

"You should hear him brag, the little shabuir. He thinks he's so damn clever, with his invisible friend garbage."

"He's lucky no one else saw him. They might have thought he snapped."

"Well, who else was going to go see him? It's worse with the New One than it was with the Creep. Klicks sure knows how to pick em."

"And how to use them once he's got them. It's no surprise he got out of this without a scratch, just like the last time." I couldn't take it anymore. Red blotted my vision and I felt myself leaping upon the boy. The same rush of energy as I had felt in the hall brushed past me and I saw one of the trainees slam into a wall. I reached out, whether to help him or harm him I'm still not sure. Before I could find out, Skirata was on me. I struggled with him, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw Klicks watching me, a smile upon his face. I froze and Skirata's fist connected with my temple. The world was blotted out again, this time by merciful darkness.

I awoke in the hospital wing, with a throbbing head, and an angry mandalorian medic questioning me. Gilmar wished to know why I had attacked the trainees. Though it pained me to do so I had to lie and said I had over heard them being disrespectful and would discipline my trainees as I saw fit, especially since he had not been injured badly. I could tell that he was not satisfied with my explanation.

Like most of the mandalorians there, Gilmar and I have no love lost between us. He knew as well as I, that the sergeants here have final say on the discipline of their trainees, and as long as the boy was not injured badly, I could do as I wished. That did not mean that he couldn't make my life hell in other ways, however, and I could sense that he fully intended to do so, starting with the inadequate supply of painkiller he gave me for my head.

Gilmar's petty revenge is far from my greatest concern at the moment, however. What terrifies me is the smile I saw on Klick's face as he watched me. That cruel smile twisting my boy's beautiful face. Quint was watching me, from within my innocent boy. That is where he has been all along, possessing him, turning him to evil. I know I must fight him, and no matter what it may cost, I must not fail.

_Year Four, Month Six, Day Thirty, 1700_

Gilmar and Skirata have spread news of my episode. All the other sergeants will not speak to me at all. Even Groze shuns me. I can feel their hate crawling over me like worms. I do not care in the slightest. What fills me with fear is the fact that I have not seen the ghosts for days now. I dare not hope that I have driven them away, or that my personal humiliation has appeased them. No, I know that they are planning something. So I must make my own plans, and save my strength.

_New Data File from the personal logs of Sergeant [Redacted] _

_Contains only a single entry._

_Post Dated Year Four, Month Seven, Day One, 2100_

Klicks came to see me today, in my quarters. While I was writing in my original diary. I should have sent him away immediately but I could not bear to do so. The strain I have been under has made me weary. The fight has grown so difficult and I needed to see, if only for a moment, the reason why I fought. Like the answer to a prayer he was there when I opened the door

He smiled at me, that innocent smile, and asked to come in. I could refuse him nothing. Once inside, he explained that he had come to apologize to me for being a burden. I couldn't believe that he would think such a thing and I told him so.

"You've been nothing but a joy to me, from the first day I've met you, Klicks. I assure you, I am nothing but fond of you, and wish nothing but to see you happy. I think of you as more than a trainee. I think of you as a friend."

He smiled again and took a step towards me. Those dark eyes of his locked on mine, dangerous and vulnerable at the same time.

At that moment the door chime rang. Though I didn't want to, I knew I had to answer it. "I'll be right back" I told him and went to get the door.

When I opened it, I was utterly shocked to see Jango himself, standing there. He wore his armor, with his helmet clipped to his belt. His face held more menace than even that infamous t-visor could as he stepped inside, ignoring my stammers of surprise

"We need to talk, right now." he said, walking towards the living area where Klicks was. Before I could stop him, he stiffened, back to me, and I knew he had seen the boy. "Leave." he said and I saw Klicks hurry past him, past me, and out the door. It shut behind him and as soon as it did, Jango grabbed me by the collar and flung me into the wall.

His face was twisted in fury and I could feel the heat of his rage. "Why was that boy here?" he snarled.

I was so terrified I could barely speak "He came to apologize for the fight! I let him in for just a minute! Check the time log on the door! he was only here a minute!'

He continued to glare at me but very slowly his snarl became a scowl. He lowered me to the the floor. "The boy is going to be transferred to another squad. Tomorrow. You are never to go near him again. If you do I will kill you. If I get word of you acting strangely again, towards any of the trainees, I will kill you. I will be watching you and so will the other sergeants. If anything at all happens, I will find out, and I will kill you. Do you understand me?"

I nodded my agreement and Jango released me. I was surprised my own shame didn't kill me on the spot. The disgust in his eyes when he turned to leave was worse than his rage. I had failed him as I had failed my boy. I could only hope that Klicks would be safe in his new squad and that my personal torment had appeased the ghosts enough for them to let us both be.

I returned to the living area to finish writing in my journal, thinking perhaps that writing would soothe my troubled soul when I noticed that my data pad was gone. I tore apart my quarters, my desperation growing as I looked. It was nowhere to be found. Someone had taken it, and only one person had been alone with it long enough to have done so. I know I have been outmaneuvered and betrayed, and I am unsure if it was by a pawn or a king.

Thinking back, I remembered seeing something in Klicks' hand as he ran from the room, something I don't remember seeing him bring in with him. I only wished I had been able to see his face. See his smile and know for sure if it was innocent and loving or mocking and cruel, to know if it is my sweet boy who has access to my most private thoughts, or my worst enemy. In the end I know it doesn't matter. I have no more time to prepare myself. I must make my move tonight, and may the gods of all be with me and forgive me.

_Audio files recovered from the computer records of Sgt[REDACTED] _

_Post dated Year Four of the GAR project, Month Seven, Day Two, 0300 hours_

[_The audio begins with a burst of static. The static fades away to a dull crackle in the background.. After a moment, a rough mechanically filtered voice speaks. It is Sgt. [ REDACTED]. In addition to the static there is the background sound of a storm at sea. The wind howls all around. There is the spatter of rain and the rumble of thunder as well as the roar of the surf_

Sgt: I don't have much time to record this. I have wired the power couplings in the main generator to give off a pulse of energy strong enough to trigger the emergency alarms but do no real harm. That one fact should work in my favor against my accusers. Mad-men don't care who they hurt as long as they believe they are correct. Well I am correct, but careful![i_Laughter/i_]. During the evacuation of the clone barracks, I managed to secure RC1842 and bring him to a place where we can speak alone. He went most willingly, even when I told him we were going to the [_Inaudible]_ Storm is making conversation difficult even through our comlinks, and in case data is lost I am live uploading this data to my computer files. I want a record of what is said. I want proof.[_Another comchannel opens. Static rises_] RC1898?

1898: Yes[_inaudible]_

Sgt: At ease. Let me adjust that.[_static fades in and out before fading away_] we don't need to stand on titles or formalities anymore. Im going to call you Klicks, you can call me [ REDACTED] Alright?

1898: Yes[,REDACTED]

Sgt: Klicks, you weren't brought here under any duress, were you?

1898:No, I was not. You requested my presence and I followed you here. You have never put undo pressure on me. You've always been fair that way.

Sgt: Thank you Klicks. You've always been a good soldier.

1898: I know I've been a handful sometimes.

Sgt:are you referring to the fights?

1898: To what else would I be refering?

Sgt:I don't know. Have you done something else?

1898: Why would I do anything wrong? I'm a good soldier, like you said. I follow my orders

Sgt: Of course you do. But have you ever been bad?

1898: I'm not sure what you mean. I always follow my orders, no matter what.

Sgt: You've never disobeyed? Ever?

1898: No. I never have. I always obey my orders. Any order! I do what I'm told! Give me any order. Any order at all. Tell me what you want me to do. And I will do it.

Sgt: I have a question for you then. I want you to answer truthfully.

1898: Yes

Sgt: Did you take my journal?

1898[_Static from comm, no answer_]

Sgt: When you were in my quarters, did you take my journal?

1898: I thought you said I was a good soldier? A good soldier wouldn't do that.

Sgt: Did you take it?

1898: Yes. I did.

Sgt: Why?

1898: I had my orders

Sgt: Orders from who?

1898: You _know_ who.

Sgt: I want to hear you say it.

1898: Sergeant Quint

Sgt: You've seen Sergeant Quint?

1898: I see him all the time, everywhere. I see him in you.

Sgt: In me?

1898: In the way you look at me. Especially when you give me orders.

Sgt: And Sergeant Quint ordered you to steal my journal.

1898: Yes

Sgt: Did he give you other orders

1898:[i_No answer/i_]

Sgt:Did Sergeant Quint ever give you orders you didn't like.

1898:[_No answer_]

Sgt:Did Sergeant Quint ever give you orders that made you uncomfortable.

1898[_No answer_]

Sgt: Answer me Klicks! Did Sergeant Quint ever give you orders you didn't like

[_Sounds of movement, splashing and footsteps. Static is intense and rises intermittently for the next few minutes]_

1898: Yes i[_inaudible_] He told me to[i_naudible]_ He said that I would like them, later. But I never did. I obeyed them. I did what he told me, but I never liked it. Not even when-

Sgt: Not even when?

1898: [_No answer_]

Sgt: Tell me RC 1898! Not even when? [_Heavy footsteps, sounds of a brief scuffle. Static rises and RC1898 shouts above it_]

1898: NOT EVEN WHEN IT WAS MY BROTHERS!

Sgt:...What?

1898: He- He made me give my brothers orders too. Since I was squad leader they had to listen to me. Thats why I did it. I tried to- to help them follow orders. I tried to help.

Sgt: Your...Where are your brothers? What happened to them?

1898[_No Answer. Faint sniffling over the roar of the storm_]

Sgt: ANSWER ME! DAMN YOU!

1898: I DON'T KNOW! They- They're gone! They're all gone! They weren't following orders like Sergeant Quint wanted them to. H-he said they'd never be good soldiers. That they weren't following orders. I tried to make them but they wouldn't. I tr-tried to make them g-good soldiers. But they w-wouldn't list- listen. Th-then one day [_Static, sobbing_], th-they-they were all g-g-gone. They f-f-failed. They fai-[_begins to cry]_

Sgt: Sergeant Quint...

1898: [_Crying_] He-he s-sent-them[_Footsteps behind him. He gasps, then cries again_]

Sgt:[_whispers_] It's ok. You tried to help them. It isn't your fault.

1898:[_muffled, still sniffling_] I tried to teach them. I'm a good soldier. [_Crying subsides, sound of fabric rustling_]I'll show you. Give me an order, any order, and I'll obey.

Sgt: Klicks, I..

1898: Anything you want

Sgt: Klicks _Please_

1898: And I'll do it.

Sgt: [_Groaning, more rustling_] No,this isn't you. It's him. It has to be him. Tell me. Tell me it's him

[_A slap and a scream, sounds of a scuffle._

1898: No! No!

Sgt: Tell me!

1898: QUINT! QUINT!

Sgt: It's him?! He's here?

1898: QUINT! QUINT! IT'S QUINT! I SEE HIM I SEE QUINT!

_[1898 continues to shout, growing louder and more hysterical. The storm roars around them and the static rises and falls rapidly. Feedback makes much of the conversation inaudible]_

Sgt; [i_Shouting over him_] Klicks calm down! He can't[_Inaudible]_ He can't hurt you! I won't let him [_inaudible_]

You won't be his anymore! He can't make you do [_inaudible]_ Tell him you won't [_inaudible]_ his orders! tell him you won't be his!

1898: Let me go![_inaudible_] Get away! QUINT[_inaudible]_

Sgt: Tell him you won't[_Inaudible_]

[_Shouting in the distance. A man and a woman getting closer_]

1898: NO! [_inaudible]_GET AWAY!

Sgt: I SEE HIM TOO![_Inaudible]_ JESSEL! TELL THEM! TELL THEM THEY WON'T HAVE YOU! [i_inaudible/i]_YOU WON'T LISTEN [S_obbing. Static_]

1898: I- I w-won't [_Hysterical sobbing and sounds of a struggle. Another slap._]

Sgt: TELL THEM! TELL THEM [_inaudible]_

1898: LET ME GO!

Sgt: QUINT! JESSEL! YOU WON'T HAVE HIM! HE ISN'T YOURS!

[_More fighting, grunts and cries of pain. A man's voice calls out "STOP" and a woman screams. More screams, a roar of rushing air and a great splash. Static. Recording ends.]_

_Incident report_

_Eyewitness account_

_Filed by Vau. W_

_Date: Year Four, Month Seven, Day two 0340_

_Re: Incident on the east landing platform_

At 0250 the alarms by the main barracks were activated. Myself and several other sergeants including Sergeant [Redacted] were dispatched to evacuate the barracks. During the headcount we noticed Sergeant [Redacted] and RC 1898 were missing. We split into groups to find them. Sergeant Braylor and I went to the east platform.

We discovered Sergeant [Redacted] and RC1898 engaged in a confrontation. They appeared to be shouting at each other but we were too far away and the storm was too loud for us to hear what they were saying. As we approached them, RC 1898 seemed to notice us and reacted with terror. He began to scream and tried to flee, but the Sergeant restrained him. I was close enough to hear him and he kept screaming the name of his former Sergeant. The deceased Sergeant Quint.

He was close to the railing and struggling fiercely. I was worried that he would fall if he didn't calm down. Sergeant [Redacted] seemed hysterical as well and began to beat the boy. He was also calling the name of Sergeant Quint and Sergeant Jessel, I could see that neither one of them seemed to be in a rational state of mind. I stopped moving toward them and removed my helmet and told Sergeant Braylor to do the same. she complied. My hope was that seeing that we were not the deceased sergeants would calm them long enough for us to reach and restrain them.

At that moment a heavy gust of wind and rain temporarily blinded us both. I heard RC 1898 and the Sergeant scream but, I could not see what happened. When my vision cleared I saw them grappling. Even as we ran toward them, we knew it was too late. As I yelled for them to stop, they fell, and went over the railing, into the ocean. By the time we reached the platform, they had vanished.

_To Orun Wa_

_From: Fett. Jango_

_Re: Incident on the east platform Final report summary_

_Date: Year Four of GAR Project, Month Seven, Day Four, 0700_

Upon review of the evidence, I am convinced both RC 1898 and Sergeant [Redacted] are if they did somehow survive a seventy meter fall, they would have drowned in the bodies have not been recovered nor are they expected to be. All the other trainees are present and accounted for and the equipment shows no sign of actual damage. Sergeant[Redacted]'s quarters are in good condition and no boobie traps or signs of damage are present. No suicide notes or any confessions beyond the audio recording of the incident and the newer, single entry journal have been found. The original journal has been found in 1898's bunk. It has been accessed via slicing, presumably by 1898. No signs of copies having been made, but it has been read at least once. None of the other trainees appear to have read it.

All the interviews with other trainees show no sign of improper conduct from either 1898 or Sergeant [Redacted]. Any non-confidential personal possessions will be sent to the sergeant's surviving relatives through an anonymous source. I recommend no replacements trainers be looked for at this time. I have spoken to the other sergeants and several of them have agreed to take on training the remaining clones. Many of the mandalorian sergeants have volunteered to do so without my asking. On some level, we all seem to know that we have failed at our duty and seek to atone for it. The question that remains, and that I can not answer, is whether or not we ever will.

_By and by all trace is gone, and what is forgotten is not only the footprints but the water too and what is down there. The rest is weather. Not the breath of the disremembered and unaccounted for, but wind in the eaves or spring ice thawing too quickly. Just weather. Certainly no clamor for a kiss_

_-Toni Morrison, Beloved._


End file.
